


Marked

by abysmal_seraph (absymal_seraph)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blood, Cutting, Multi, Sadomasochism, Scarification, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-12 23:32:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3359387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/absymal_seraph/pseuds/abysmal_seraph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky has a need that only his boyfriends can fulfill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marked

There is a lot of talking that happens before they get to this point: questions, stilted explanations, assurances that this isn’t Bucky seeking out punishment. That last part is the most important, neither Steve nor Sam wanting to treat him like a criminal. They will hurt him if he needs it, desires it, but not harm him, and this comes dangerously close to the latter depending on Bucky’s state of mind.

His reasons are sound though, even if they probably would make a psychiatrist uneasy. Sam’s too biased to play counselor to his own boyfriend, and he doesn’t think Steve’s looked far beyond Bucky having a want that he can fulfill. And perhaps the promise of blood. 

If there is one thing Sam’s learned since meeting Steve, it’s the general public hasn’t got a clue what really makes Captain America tick. 

So they talk. They research. And after a lot of checking and rechecking, they eventually reach the point where Steve’s got a scalpel in his gloved hand.

Bucky has never been terribly forthcoming about what Hydra put him through. He has nightmares but they’re not the sort of thing he wants to talk about when he’d much rather curl up tight with Steve or Sam and just breathe them in. His reaction once talk and preparation became reality has been the biggest worry for everyone but him. 

At that moment, as Bucky watches Steve with easy acceptance and trust, Sam is glad they took Bucky’s word for it.

“I don’t really have to warn you that this will hurt, right?” Steve asks, teasing without an ounce of nervousness. He’s in his element, as relaxed as Bucky. If anyone here is anxious, it’s Sam.

“Keep teasing, Rogers, and I won’t let you fuck me after,” is Bucky’s drawled warning. He smirks at Steve’s exaggerated dismay then turns to take Sam’s hand in his left. The plates of the body warm metal shifts against Sam’s skin. “You don’t have to stick around for this, you know.”

Sam does know, has since before they set up the safe house for this express purpose, since he decided to be a part of this moment instead of waiting at home until it was done. It’s not like Sam blindly walked into dating a couple of sadomasochists who are both frustrated and delighted by how fast their bodies heal. Someone has to make sure they don’t go too far, that they remember they aren’t invincible. 

He kisses Bucky’s hand, smooth metal against his lips then nods for Steve to start.

Bucky doesn’t make a sound as the scalpel cuts into the blue outline on his chest. His breathing is slow and his eyes are closed as Steve works. The only signs he gives of any discomfort is the occasional wince and the slight squeeze of his hand in Sam’s. 

“You okay, Buck?” Sam asks. It’s more rhetorical than anything. Bucky knows he can tap out at anytime by using his safeword even though Sam’s not sure this qualifies as play. Safewording comes so much easier to Bucky than simply saying ‘stop’.

There is a beat of silence before Bucky turns his head towards Sam and opens his eyes. His gaze is watery and intense, wide with emotions Sam can see he’s having trouble voicing. Bucky swallows hard, squeezes Sam’s hand again, and the smile that blooms on his face is bright and trembling with quiet joy.

“I’m not theirs,” he says when Steve lifts the scalpel to wipe away a pool of blood. The words are soft, almost more breath than sound, but the pure relief in them is enough to stop Sam’s heart.

“That’s right, Buck,” Steve agrees, stopping long enough for Sam and Bucky to share a slow, deep kiss. “You’re ours and now everyone’s going to know.”

There’s a slight growl to the words that makes Bucky’s expression go tender. His eyes, half closed and dreamy, stay on Steve’s face as he starts cutting away skin, watching Steve put his full focus on the task. 

The smile never leaves Bucky’s face, sweet and loving and riding the wave of endorphins. He turns Sam’s hand and releases it, smooth metal fingers exploring his palm, the delicate vulnerability of his wrist. He strokes his thumb against the thin skin where Sam’s pulse beats strong, over and over, a reminder that Bucky has by no means forgotten him.

It seems to go on forever, this strange serenity, but only a few hours have passed when Steve finishes and shifts aside to let Sam tend the wound. Once the area is clean of blood, Steve holds up a small mirror so Bucky can see. His breath hitches on a soft sob as his eyes traces the carefully laid design, nearly touching it before clenching his hands into fists to stop himself.

The lines are perfect, Steve’s shield framed by the more delicate details of Sam’s outstretched wings. They won’t know until it heals if it will actually scar, but if it doesn’t, they will do it again and again for as long as Bucky needs it. What really matters is what it means to him, a counterpoint to the red star on his left shoulder, the etched sign that he is loved and cherished, that he is so much more than the weapon Hydra attempted to make of him. That there are people he can trust enough to let them do this for him.

Bucky whines when Sam finally applies the bandage, not in pain but loss. Steve kisses him as a distraction that mostly works, a smile coming back to Bucky’s lips as he chases after Steve’s, peace resettling itself under his skin. He reaches for Sam, pulling him closer, fingers spreading over the steady beat of Sam’s heart as Bucky moans.

They take him to bed after that, touch him slow and sweet and careful. He comes apart beautifully under their hands, breathing ‘I love you’ against their skin like it’s the only prayer he knows.


End file.
